


Hidden Spring

by Innin



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: "Thank god you're alive" sex, F/F, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-01-12 22:51:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18456233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Innin/pseuds/Innin
Summary: Following an ill-advised fight against the Mirkwood spiders, Tauriel and fellow captain Lindalmë have a chance to rest and recover.





	Hidden Spring

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Narya_Flame](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narya_Flame/gifts).



Tauriel breathed a little easier when the blue water of the spring shimmered through the underbrush. There was an unmanned waystation through the trees ahead to rest safely, bedrolls, firewood, sweet water to drink and bathe, and, if they were lucky, better provisions than the army ration of waybread Tauriel carried. 

She turned to Lindalmë behind her and motioned her head in direction of the station. The apology behind her lips, she thought, must be easily apparent on her face as well, because Lindalmë's expression relaxed from the strenuous mien she'd worn on the stumbling march through the forest. She pushed past Tauriel into the clearing, and let herself fall into the lush grass at the edge of the spring, in a spot of warm sunshine and the flowers of early summer. Overhead, the beeches still wore green so bright it nearly hurt her eyes after the darkness of the pines they'd emerged from. 

The hidden spring was a wholesome place, and a glance behind confirmed that no spiders had followed them from the nest they'd attempted to rout. 

They'd barely escaped with their lives intact. 

If not for that, Tauriel might have smiled at Lindalmë's cat-like behaviour as she rolled onto her back, soaking up the light. She might have smiled, too, if the sun didn't, more than the shadows in the forest had, emphasize the pallor of her skin and the swollen bite marks of the spiders. There were two angry red welts on her throat half-hidden by her spiderweb-snagged black hair, and another on top of her shoulder, visible even through the webs covering the torn fabric of her captain's garb. 

Well, Tauriel thought with a pang of guilt, Lindalmë had agreed to the contest. It wasn't the first time they'd put themselves into danger on a dare, either for the thrill of it, or whatever the gain of their wager had been. Even so, she couldn't help regretting this one, and the turn it had taken. Lindalmë swarmed by the terrible creatures, some the size of a cat, some far larger, and dragged into a tree, where they'd begun wrapping her into a ghastly cocoon while she was fighting to stay conscious in spite of the poison. 

Even so - if they had kept true count, Lindalmë had won with eighteen spiders falling to her, and eleven to Tauriel. That left Lindalmë the one to be serviced as a reward. The thought was enough to set off a sudden tension in Tauriel's body, and a tightness in her throat, toward the woman now apparently asleep or at least lying with her eyes closed in the sunshine. 

The clearing was safe; Tauriel trusted to that; the air was summer-warm and clearer than the ancient, leaf-heavy breath of the forest. Sunlight sparkled on the surface of the water and threw reflections skittering over Lindalmë and the tree trunks around, making her seem, for a moment, like some otherworldly apparition in a vision painted in gems. 

If not for the fact that she was obviously hurt. 

Tauriel shook her head to dispel the… whatever strange impulses her heart had in store for her. She had _saved_ Lindalmë from being devoured by spiders after spending a gruesome time suffocating in the cocoon they had half-woven her in by the time Tauriel had reached her to cut her free. Another pang went through her at the thought of losing Lindalmë, something spiky and painful that ripped from Tauriel's guts to her heart. She shook her head again to clear away the sensation, dropped into another spot of sunlight through the leaves, keeping her distance to leave Lindalmë to her rest, and fumbled a comb from her pack, finely-toothed enough to remove the spiderwebs from her own hair. 

She kept Lindalmë in her sight all the same.

A little while into brushing, calm settled onto Tauriel's mind, finally. Lindalmë, it seemed, now slept soundly, stirring only slightly, in no way that might indicate some harrowing dream. She was famous for remaining unruffled among her company and beyond - in truth, that was what Tauriel, still as impulsive as she had always been, had first admired, then envied and finally challenged about her fellow captain. By that time they had, almost without noticing, become friends.

It was no longer quite the right word. She abruptly turned away to look at her surroundings, and the _talan_ in the trees the other side of the spring, keeping her fingers busy with her grooming. Spiderwebs were a pain to remove. 

Tauriel parted another strand from the tangled mass of her hair to run to the comb through it, and continued until eventually a new pair of hands pulled the comb from her grasp, and a presence settled behind Tauriel. She knew it was Lindalmë without so much as looking. 

Her heart dropped into her stomach when those hands brushed across her shoulder to the nape of her neck. "There is still some here that you missed," Lindalmë said. "Let me." 

Tauriel let her, suddenly helpless in her grasp, and doing her utmost to prevent the shivers that crawled through her at every new touch of Lindalmë's - the nape of her neck again, a brush of hair against the side of her throat, her ears, fine as a feather's touch. She was sure Lindalmë must be hearing, on her guard as she usually was, how laboured Tauriel's breathing was becoming, and that there was only one conclusion to draw from it. 

"There is no need to be nervous, Tauriel," Lindalmë said in a low voice, following a pause in her motions. "I had enough time to rest up and think; I cannot blame you beyond suggesting the bargain to begin it. Joining it makes my fate my fault." 

"Yet -" Tauriel objected before her brain had processed the thought fully, and the skitters of after-battle nervousness that she had thought settled resumed. " - today was a closer encounter with death than I would have wanted for either of us. And what for?" 

She should have expected Lindalmë to have an answer. She always had those. 

"Service, and a promise. We would have gone for the spiders regardless, if perhaps a little less recklessly and with more reinforcements, than merely us two, but they were too close to inhabited spaces to be given free rein."

Reason did nothing to assuage the renewed guilt, but Tauriel decided to comply. The fight - or perhaps Lindalmë's closeness and steady voice - had worn her out. She nodded, pulling against the steady motion of the comb and Lindalmë's fingers, and the impulse to fall into the touch and let herself relish it the way she wanted to. 

"That leaves our wager. When would you have me do it?" 

Tauriel turned half-around to see Lindalmë's face when she'd answer, hoping against hope that it would betray more than her carefully-kept nonchalance at the suggestion. It was not the first time they'd lie with each other, not by far, and Tauriel cherished all their encounters. It was only this that made her inexplicably nervous, and her thoughts jumped back to the image of Lindalmë struggling helplessly against the webs that half-enveloped her. 

In the present she returned Tauriel's look without wavering, perhaps waiting for something more from Tauriel. When nothing came, and Lindalmë's dark eyes darkened further ever so slightly, she finally said, "Soon, but let us at least remove these cobwebs first. Return the favour and brush my hair, and then let us bathe." 

Throughout the look they had been sharing, Lindalmë had continued combing to the final strand of Tauriel's hair, and pulled the comb free to hand it back to Tauriel before turning her back and shaking her head to loosen her own hair out of the tangles it was caught in, so unlike the smooth black silk usually curtaining half down her back. 

Tauriel began to work the comb through it, keeping her touch light and untangling the knots with her fingers before following with the tool. She steered clear of the bites she knew there were and wondered how much self-possession it took Lindalmë to not sway where she sat after such a brief rest. Three bites were an amount that even a seasoned warrior should at the very least feel the effect of, but if Lindalmë did she hid it well, sitting cross-legged on the sward gazing toward the forest. If anything betrayed her state, then perhaps the slant of her shoulders, not quite as rigid as she usually held them. Tauriel smiled; it seemed like Lindalmë was enjoying the ministrations. 

Still, something preyed on Tauriel's mind as she worked - an image she had long thought forgotten, or at the very least so healed that it no longer troubled her waking thoughts, mourning the loss of Kíli, only that this time, it was Lindalmë in her arms, and Tauriel had carried her to safety out of the nest before daring to let her walk on her own again.

Keeping her hands busy again helped soothe Tauriel. When Lindalmë's hair hung smooth and sleek again after a while - the sun had wandered by then and the sun-spots the two them had inhabited had shifted along - Tauriel finally let the comb sink. "I am done," she announced, and Lindalmë gave a brief, curt nod, and the hint of a smile. 

"Thank you, that did well. I am glad you are here." 

There was a breath of warmth in those words that Tauriel relished like the sunlight, still sitting and watching while Lindalmë rose to shed her leather armour and clothes, still a reminder of their ordeal, covered in webs and torn as they were. She watched for a moment and drank in the sight of Lindalmë naked, light slanting over the muscles of her long legs and the curve of her breasts, the small metal rings through her nipples glinting gold. A surge of possessiveness went through Tauriel at the sight, and, spurred her into following suit and slipping into the warm water of the spring after Lindalmë. 

They washed quickly and perfunctorily, rinsing off blood and cobwebs, checking each other for more injuries and bruises from the fight, and Tauriel again took care to not irritate Lindalmë's spider bites, even as her fingers lingered over them. Lindalmë's touches on her seemed to burn, setting her alight with sensation.

It was Lindalmë who finally turned to Tauriel and kissed her before she was given any chance for protest. Tauriel kissed her back on instinct and familiarity, lips and tongues sliding together in a rhythm that left them both gasping after moments, unwilling to break contact. The water rippled around them, sun-warmed and pleasant, and Tauriel found herself maneuvered onto a large submerged rock by the bank to sit while Lindalmë came to rest on her lap, heavier than Tauriel and effectively pinning her down. 

The suddenness of it startled her, a little, but Lindalmë gave her little time to think, claiming Tauriel's lips again and threading a hand through her hair, pressing their bodies together, warmer even than the spring water, radiating heat between them, with the cooler metal of her piercings counterpoints that left Tauriel shuddering with pleasure.

Tauriel's head tipped back of her own accord, and Lindalmë, long familiar with her body's cues, fastened her lips over Tauriel's collar bone, teeth and tongue grazing across until Tauriel moaned. "Stop," she managed, and Lindalmë complied after a moment. "Did you not… mean it?" Her eyes were wider, perhaps by a little, than they ought to be, the look of a startled deer on her face. 

"No... no, I meant it. But I ought to serve you, not you me. It was our bargain." 

Lindalmë laughed, once and briefly, but something like relief lit up her face when she did. "Would you not say that putting yourself at my mercy is the same as having me direct what you ought to do to me?" Her hand ran over Tauriel's throat, making her shiver and leave goosebumps in the wake of her touch. "I could squeeze down here and leave you helpless" - again that word, again the image of Lindalmë ensnared by the spiders. "I have heard that it heightens pleasure." 

Tauriel shook her head, wiping wet hair out of her face after. "Another time. Let me serve you. You are hurt." 

She _wanted_ , there was no doubt about the heat of desire pooling liquid and beckoning inside her, but more than her own impulses, she wanted Lindalmë, wanted to taste her and see her squirm beneath her, for once stripped of her control and composure. Rewrite the awful experience of the day into something pleasant. 

Into more than mere friendship that had turned into physical companionship. 

"Was my hurt part of the bargain? I think not. I am not so hurt that I cannot play, whichever way you would have it." Lindalmë's mouth twitched into another smile, and that, finally, was the missing piece that slipped into place in Tauriel's mind. Lindalmë was standing in the water in front of her now, and Tauriel rose out of the spring onto the grass, giving Lindalmë a look that expected her to follow. 

She did, in a rush of droplets, and made directly for one of the spots that were now sunny, a long, narrow stretch that fit her body like it was made for her, then beckoned Tauriel to her. 

"If you would have it this way, show me what you seek to do." 

_An apology_ , Tauriel almost, but not quite said as she straddled Lindalmë. _More._

Instead she put her mouth to work. 

Lindalmë's lips opened under hers with a surprised breath at her initiative. Their kisses always did leave Tauriel happily out of breath, long-familiar and still thrilling. She splayed a possessive hand along the side of Lindalmë's throat, fingers open so she'd not irritate more of the hurt spots, kissed along her chin and jawbone, slipping down open-mouthed as if nothing else would do, as if she might have Lindalmë if she covered every part of her skin in kisses. 

Lindalmë shuddered under her, one hand twisted into the grass, the other at the back of Tauriel's head with pressure that meant one thing only, _down_. Tauriel went on, teasing at Lindalmë's nipples until she arched her back off the ground - more sensitive than most to the touch of a mouth, or even the flick of fingers on the fine rings - each coming with a bucking motion of her upper body, each gentle lick and warm breath over her breasts bringing a new shiver of goosebumps over her body until finally Lindalmë's hips rolled upward, seeking contact.

Tauriel chuckled, and only then she continued kissing over the ripples of Lindalmë's belly and and an old battle scar, a sunburst-shaped snarl of paler flesh where she had once survived an orc arrow. It no longer hurt her, Tauriel knew that, but it gave her another mental image, of Lindalmë helpless on the ground in some battle, long before Tauriel had known her as well as she did now. 

_I almost lost all this. I almost lost all of you._ The thought awoke something even more fiercely protective in her as she finally put her mouth to use between Lindalmë's legs, which fell open readily to Tauriel's attentions, and she knew precisely with strokes of tongue and what crook of fingers would finally take Lindalmë over the edge. 

She did none of them, wanting to draw out their encounter, holding Lindalmë's hips down, slowly fucking her tongue into Lindalmë and back out, stroking her inner walls and thrusting shallow with her fingers, playing with her labia. Lindalmë's control translated into a whipcord tension in her muscles and her eyes on Tauriel, keeping herself propped up on her elbows, though even then she couldn't help a minute gasp or two. Lindalmë was not the type to whine or demand, ordinarily, and that was what Tauriel wanted to achieve, teasing out more wetness, keeping her teetering on the brink of release before pulling back, and then bringing her there over again.

Tauriel's mouth was slick and awash with her taste, Lindalmë's breaths short and shallow. Close. 

Tauriel drew back the first time. 

Lindalmë's fingers slipped from her hair. Tauriel sat up, grinning. The rapid rise and fall of Lindalmë's chest, the flush of colour creeping from her face down her throat had replaced the awful pallor, and her eyes had gone half-lidded, her lips open. 

Tauriel leaned in to kiss her again. She could have cut the tension between them with a knife, Tauriel thought, and nipped at Lindalmë's lips, stroking the inside of her thigh with one hand. "Good?"

Lindalmë shook her head, blades of grass caught in her hair. "Not enough. You know that. Please, Tauriel…" She reached down, tangling their hands together, and pulled Tauriel against her center again, thumbing hard over her clit before Tauriel could pull their hands away. It was all it still took for her to come, breathing out in a relieved huff as Lindalmë's orgasm washed through her. 

* 

Not long after, they lay together in the single bedroll they had found in the waystation, skin against skin. Tauriel still thrummed with lazy sensation - their lovemaking had continued afterwards, though slower and more considerate of each other once Tauriel had calmed enough to admit her own need. But it seemed that Lindalmë had mistaken her efforts for something else. "Tauriel… there is no need to be gentle with me. I am a little hurt that you think the spiders turned me this fragile." 

As if she had caught that thought of hers - though Tauriel had never been particularly gifted at mind-speech - Lindalmë lifted a hand and reached for Tauriel's own free hand on her hip. Their fingers tangled, their hands slipping down to rest between them. Lindalmë squeezed Tauriel's hand.

It was that rather than the words, that took to throw Tauriel off the path she had been trying to pursue. The gesture, so unlike anything before from Lindalmë, left her reeling with unexpected, painful tenderness, stretching out next to - she hardly dared think it - her lover, suddenly, reaching out her free hand to caress a strand of hair off her forehead. 

"You seem so rattled today," Lindalmë said. "Why?" 

"I almost lost you!" Tauriel blurted out in return. "It made some things clear to me, about - about…"

"Finally!" Lindalmë interjected, and pulled Tauriel into a new kiss, speaking against her lips. smiling as she said, "I have been waiting for you to realize that for a long time." 

Tauriel squeezed her hand in return, and kissed her again.


End file.
